After the Wave, but Before the Storm
by SvgeChick
Summary: From Weiss, Vaughn and Marshall's perspectives. A story about what happened during those infamous lost months between the third and fourth seasons. Other characters will cameo, I promise. Please read and respond! Ch 2 up!
1. Long Days and Sleepless Nights

Disclaimer: I have no affiliation with or any claim to Alias or its characters – just the creative liberties I have taken with this piece.

A/N: This is meant to take place during those infamous lost months between the third and fourth season. This story is from Marshall, Weiss and Vaughn's perspective. This is the first of two stories that take place during this time. The next one, will be three different characters, I'd like for it to be all female characters but I think I may fall short because despite the main character, it's kind of a male dominated show – if you wanna offer up any suggestions, let me know. I may wait until later in the season to start that one though because from what I've heard… well I guess you'll have to just watch the show  Please read and respond!

Marshall Flinkman sat tinkering with his soddering iron, working on his new project for Sydney: a chip disguised as an earring that can locate a person in a crowd by their voice. As he tried to adjust the chip to attach another piece, the iron slipped into his finger.

"Nice job, Marshall. Way to be." He scolded himself as he examined the newly forming blister on his finger. He pulled the first aid kit out of his desk drawer and dressed his burn. For the first time in hours, he glanced out his window into the now nearly empty office. Glancing at the clock, he muttered a curse under his breath. Carrie was going to eat him alive. That meant lots of yelling and then lots of silence. This was the third time he'd missed dinner in the past week. As if she had read his mind, his office phone rang.

He hesitated. Swallowing hard, he picked the receiver up slowly. "Hi, honey."

"Marshall? Have you looked at the clock? Or is it 'broken' again? Where the hell are you?" He could just see her, standing in their kitchen; hand on her hip with the look of death he'd seen so many times. He had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at the image.

"I know what time it is. I'm sorry, Carrie. I was, um…" he couldn't bare to hear her "you're never home anymore" guilt trip, he needed an excuse. He spotted Weiss sitting at his desk across the office, rubbing his eyes and yawning. "Weiss and I had to work on a project that just couldn't wait until tomorrow. I'm leaving soon, I promise. See you in a bit." He hung up the phone before she could protest. He already knew he was in for it when he got home. Hopefully, Mitchell would still be up. He resolved to leave when Weiss did hoping it would make himself feel less guilty about lying.

"Marshall? What are you still doing here, man?" Weiss said, popping his head around the door.

"Um… yeah, about that…" Weiss rolled his eyes at him.

"Again? Dude, get yourself an alarm. Carrie will have my head for helping you lie to her. You're not the one who has to work with her."

"No, but I'm the one who has to live with her." Weiss laughed at him. "I owe you, all right. I'm working on the whole leaving on time thing."

"Point and match. Just know that if she comes for my head, you're next."

As Weiss walked away, Marshall muttered, "You have no idea" started packing his briefcase.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Eric Weiss sat back at his desk and blinked at his computer screen. Before he got up for coffee, he'd read the same page three times. Since Lauren's death, the agency had been eerily subdued. Of course there are always terrorists on the brink of attack or some volatile mastermind selling weapons to destroy something or other; but it was different some how. The intensity had changed. Nothing seemed as personal as it once did. With Lauren gone and Sark in custody, that left only Sloane to be found: except no one was really looking. It was like everyone knew some secret he didn't and no one was speaking any more. They went out, completed their missions, did their debriefs and reports and went home, silently without very much small talk in between. This of course meant that at that moment, Weiss was one of half a dozen people still in the office after normal hours, and as per usual, having had nothing better to do because of his friends' lack of social interest, he was doing busy work that really had nothing to do with anything.

His computer screen froze as he tried to scroll back up to the top. Rather than getting frustrated and hitting it like he normally did, he just pushed the power button and left it off. _It's a sign. The Cheetos are sending me messages from their nest in the couch, _he thought, shoving the papers he'd been referencing into his top drawer. He said a hasty good bye to the few agents left in the audience, including Marshall, who was rushing around his office putting away his tools, and headed out into the deserted parking garage toward his car.

It was just after midnight when he pulled into his parking space at his apartment building. He stood for a few moments outside of his door, fumbling loudly through his pockets for the keys he had just used to enter the building a few minutes before. Before he could find them, the door opened to reveal a sleepy looking Vaughn in boxers and a t-shirt.

"You know, I don't think the neighbors are awake yet, maybe you could make more noise." He chided, stepping aside so Weiss could come in.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Weiss retorted, setting his briefcase on the table with a defiant thud, "I wasn't aware that an overly broody, half naked CIA agent with an apartment of his own was going to be sleeping on my couch. I'll try to be more considerate next time."

Vaughn smirked at him and sat back down on the couch. Weiss grabbed the carton of orange juice out of the fridge and plopped down into the easy chair across from Vaughn.

"Dude, you look like hell. Not that I mind, but why are you back here?" he asked, following his question with a satisfying chug of juice.

"That is really disgusting. Remind not to drink anything but water while I'm here. I got back this afternoon. I drove up state for a few days to clear my head. I tried to go back to my apartment, but… I just couldn't bring myself to walk through the door. Syd's not returning my calls and rather than stay with Marshall and look at zillions of nauseatingly adorable pictures of Mitchell, I elected to put to use the spare key you gave to your place in case of emergency." Vaughn smiled sadly, staring down at the couch for a moment before looking back up.

"Well, all right then. But under no circumstances are you to mess with the nests of Cheetos I have formed in that couch. I'm saving them for later." Weiss said, putting the carton back in the refrigerator and heading toward his bedroom.

"Goodnight, Eric." Weiss gave him a salute in reply and closed the door.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Vaughn lay awake for several hours after Weiss went to sleep. He knew he'd be sorry in the morning. In just a few short hours he had to be at the agency for what would be the start of many debriefings, interrogations and psych evaluations. Despite this, he felt sort of indifferent about it. He couldn't say that he really felt much about anything these days, except for maybe Sydney, but he wasn't sure he was ready to see her yet. Of course, she would be there tomorrow, going through the same amount of questioning he would. He just wasn't sure he wanted to feel anything yet. It would be so much easier to just be numb for awhile; it wouldn't solve anything, but it would feel better than dealing with the hundreds of different emotions that were breaking against the dam he'd built in his head.

In the weeks following Lauren's death, his memories of her would not leave his mind. Awake or sleeping, eyes opened or closed, images of her ran through his mind on a never-ending loop. Every night a different image, every night a different memory. Tonight's mental epic was of their wedding ceremony. Staring at Weiss's horribly textured ceiling, he could see that day moment for moment projected in front of him. Eye's open or closed; it didn't seem to matter anymore. He could see himself grinning stupidly as she walked toward him, Weiss standing next to him smirking. Bitterly, he thought about how beautiful she looked. He remembered how hard it was for him to wait until "I Do" to kiss her. It was so easy. He realized now that it was the first and only day that Sydney had not entered his thoughts.

He let it replay for another hour, getting more and more riled with each "I do". It was amazing how much so could tear him apart even in death. He couldn't take it anymore. He had already given her two years too many. She had broken him to an immeasurable degree. He could never put the pieces back together living like this. As he stared at white in front of him, something occurred to him that had not before. He suddenly knew what he needed to do. This was the answer. This was what he needed. Tomorrow he could start over. He could learn to live as himself again. At this thought he sat up, a smile forming at the edge of his lips. Tonight was the night.


	2. Fanning the Flames

Disclaimer: I have no affiliation with or any claim to Alias or its characters – just the creative liberties I have taken with this piece.

A/N: Sorry it's taken me so long to update this story. I've had a lot going on with frickin' midterms and such. College is a bitch, let me tell ya. I've also been slightly distracted by my HP fic and a sudden inspiration for another Alias fic (my friend Sarah and I are going to work on it over our spring break this week). But, here it finally is. As always, feel free to offer up any suggestions you so desire. Hope you enjoy! Please read and respond!

* * *

Vaughn's determined steps echoed throughout the parking garage as he made his way toward his car. More than anything, he knew that he couldn't live another second with Lauren's resilient memory hijacking his brain. He had to get rid of it, to get rid of anything and everything she'd ever brought into his life. An eerie calm settled over him as he got into his car and drove out into the dark, L. A. night.

The normally bright and bustling streets of L. A. were now barren except for the shadows that covered them. Each place he passed held some memory of Lauren. He tried to keep his eyes locked on the road in front of him until the familiar high rise his apartment was in came into view. He was ready to crawl out of his skin just to be rid of the guilt and the betrayal and the pain. He parked on an empty side street and fingered his apartment key as he walked into the building.

The usual doorman was there, half asleep and apathetic to anyone that wandered into the building. Vaughn wasted no time getting to his apartment and had the key poised to open it when he reached the door. Everything was still in the same spot they had left it in. _Guess no one's home._ He thought, bitterly. He took no time reminiscing. He was on a mission, a mission that for the sake of his sanity and his survival he must complete without fail. Pulling a suitcase out from underneath the bed, he emptied his dresser and his nightstand of the only things that remained necessary in his mind. He almost made it all the way through without seeing her face, but he made the mistake of letting his eyes drift up while he was closing the brimming suitcase.

On her nightstand sat a picture, a farce of happier times. The eyes of the blissful couple in it glared back at him, daring him to come closer, to really look at what his life had been, his life without Sydney. Vaughn stomped over to it and swiped it fiercely into the wall. He looked down at his hand as if he had just performed some great magical feat. For the first time, he looked around, seeing how much of Lauren remained around the apartment. He slammed the suitcase down by the front door and made his rounds, smashing everything that held any trace of her in it. One by one, he knocked all of the pictures and all of the sentimental trinkets down like dominos that shattered into the pieces of his broken life. He ripped all of her clothes out of the dress and littered them around the apartment. He didn't stop until everything she had ever owned was on the floor.

Without even a second thought, he charged into the kitchen for the lighter fluid he kept under the sink. Vaughn hesitated and stared at it resentfully as he remembered the picnic they took on their first anniversary and he tried to use the Hibachi. Blinking it away he doused all of the debris that covered every inch of the place that he once thought was his home. Grabbing the book of matches kept on the stove, he lit one and watched in slow motion as the chain of lighter fluid ignited.

Vaughn wasted no time thinking about what he had just done, but hurried out of the building just in time to here the fire alarm go off in the building and the sirens start up a few blocks away. As he started his car and drove off, a small, but noticeable smile crept its way to his lips.

* * *

Weiss grumbled audibly as shut his alarm off. Blinking his eyes several times, he forced himself up. As he reached the bathroom door, the thick, sleepy fog that clouded his mind began to thin and he remembered that Vaughn was still asleep on the couch. He yawned apathetically and turned back toward his bedroom door. 

"All right, Dude. Time to face the firing squad. Get u—" Weiss looked quizzically down at the crumpled up blanket and the empty couch. "Ok, so apparently I'm talking to myself." Shaking his head, he turned back toward the bathroom to shower and get ready to go into the office.

As he shuffled around his apartment, his mind wandered from what he was doing to why Vaughn had left so early. Granted, Weiss was a heavy sleeper, but he knew he would have heard him if he had gotten in the shower. Nobody could sleep through the racket the pipes made. He knew the Vaughn was a big boy and could handle himself, but something felt…off to him. Grabbing his suit jacket and briefcase, Weiss shook off the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach and headed mindlessly out the door toward the parking garage.

ooo

After braving the devilish Los Angeles morning traffic, Weiss walked fully awake into the guarded building, robotically making his way past all of the security checks. Situating himself at his desk, he tried not to jump to any conclusions at the sight of Vaughn's desk across the room, uncluttered and seemingly untouched.

After five minutes, he couldn't stand it anymore. He dialed Vaughn's cell phone: it went straight to voicemail and he frowned at his phone as he closed it. Looking up, he was greeted by the unsmiling, sober face of Jack.

"Hey, Jack. What's with the face?" Weiss smirked to himself as the elder Bristow looked at him.

"It's too soon to make any conclusions, but Vaughn is missing." Weiss' face fell as his suspicion was all but confirmed.

"He didn't show this morning for his debriefing with Dixon. Sydney's on her way in, but she said she hasn't heard from him." Jack gazed at him, expecting an answer to his unasked question. Weiss shook his head before he spoke.

"He was at my apartment last night when I got home. When I went out to wake him this morning at six he had already left. I don't know when he took off. I didn't hear him leave." Weiss mentally cursed himself for not acting on his instinct. Jack nodded at him.

"We'll keep trying to find him then. If you remember anything or have any idea where he went…" The end of Jack's sentence was swallowed by the uneasiness of the situation. With a flat confirmation from Weiss, he watch him walk back across the room and into Marshall's office, frantically racking his brain for anything that might bring to light where Vaughn was or why he left the apartment so early.

* * *

Marshall muttered quietly to himself as he reread his "to do" list for the day. No matter what, he had to make it home on time that day from work. As he began mentally prioritizing the list, Jack Bristow ventured noiselessly into his office. 

"Well hello, Mr. Bristow. I don't normally see you in here this early in the morning. By in here, I mean in my office not in the office in general. I'm sure you get here before I do. It's just—" Unphased by his typical babbling, Jack interrupted him.

"Marshall, I need you to do a thorough scan of all of the controlled city radio networks to see if there's anything unusual. We're looking specifically for something that could be related to Vaughn." A noticeable surge of involuntary panic went through Marshall as he listened to Jack.

"It's too soon to start worrying about him too much, given the circumstances. But just to be safe, I'd like you to run this check now. Let me know right away if you find anything."

"Of course, I'm not worried." Marshall swallowed the nervous lump that was growing in his throat. "I'll let you know if I find anything." With Marshall's affirmation, Jack said a hasty thank you and goodbye and left.

Marshall turned quickly back to his computer and began searching all of the activity logs from the LAPD, LAFD and all of the local emergency rooms. Despite the chaos it added, he began streaming both the police and fire department radios at once, listening intently for anything relevant. He knew he didn't know Vaughn incredibly well, but he knew enough to know that the man never missed an appointment without explanation. He also knew that, no matter the agent, it was never a good thing when one went missing.

After fifteen minutes staring almost unblinkingly at his computer screen, Marshall zealously leapt from his stool, catching himself on his headphones. He threw them hastily across his desk and hurried out of his office toward Dixon's where Jack was. Not bothering to knock, Marshall whipped open the door, causing both men to look over at him.

"There's been a fire! The Los Angeles Fire Department recorded a call that came from an alarm early this morning just before five. No one was hurt but they haven't caught the person that set it." Marshall rambled, breathlessly.

"Marshall, what does that mean? Where was the fire?" Dixon asked, patiently.

"Oh, right, sorry. It doesn't say exactly what apartment, but the fire occurred in Vaughn's building." Marshall jumped as the panicked voice of Weiss came from behind him.

"A fire? Jesus! Does it say how it was started?"

Marshall looked at him somberly.

"Arson."

* * *

Thanks to the couple of you that read this fic and to alllieee for her kind review! Please read and respond; I do so enjoy getting those review alerts! 

Thanks all,

Mel


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